


The Rainbow-Scaled Dragon

by cato2



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 07:04:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17678744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cato2/pseuds/cato2
Summary: A short story about my Aasimar d&d character, Daeja Fei, before she joins the campaign.





	The Rainbow-Scaled Dragon

The silhouette of a man, holding a small child in his arms, steadily climbed to the peak of a snow-covered summit where an isolated temple stood, overlooking the mountain-side town of Shǎnyào.  
“Almost there, Shun!” He said cheerfully, but heavily out of breath as he passed beneath the red paifang before the temple’s entrance, snow loudly crunching with each step.  
He smiled at the little boy in his arms, who was currently transfixed on the bands of color that stretched across the night sky- for tonight, the Fei clan celebrated the return of the aurora.

As he neared the entrance of the temple, he set down the child, who went stomping through the snow towards the warm glow that spilled from beneath the front sliding door. He stopped when he saw the monk who guarded the door, turning back to his father.  
The man greeted the monk with a smile as he approached, putting a hand on his son’s shoulder.  
“Has she already started?”  
The monk nodded, expressionless. He was an aged man, but well built after many years of apparent combat. His face was marked by a large scar that ran across the left side of his lower jaw.  
The man returned the nod, keeping up the smile and gently tapping his son’s back to break his intense upwards stare at the monk.  
After waiting awkwardly for a moment, he slid open the door and let himself inside, having to stop the child from running ahead.  
“Now now, Shun- don’t forget to take off your shoes.”

…

The Aasimar priestess of the Fei Clan, Daeja, looked over towards the entrance as she paused in her performance. Her lips curved into a slight smile as she watched little Shun eagerly run forward and sit cross-legged beside the other children who sat before her.  
She looked over to his father, Wu, who stood at the end of the line of parents and monks along the back wall. He gave a slight wave towards her, receiving a small nod in return.  
The whine of a musician’s erhu in the back corner signaled Daeja’s returned to her performance, and she raised her silk-sleeved right arm in a fluid motion.

“The Red Dragon said, ‘He’s a part of my clan- for you see, the scales along his jaw are a fine crimson, and what is a dragon without his ferocious maw?”  
She glared fiercely at the children, adding a growl to her words for effect. They giggled, and Shun scooted back a little bit in fear.  
“‘No,’ The Blue Dragon said, ‘He must be of my clan- for the scales around his eyes are like beautiful sapphires, and what is a dragon defined by if not his cutting gaze?’”  
She scanned the eyes of her audience with a serious expression, noticing the scarred monk, Xin, enter and slide the door closed behind him. Her stare lingered on him for a moment.  
“‘But wait-’ Said the Green Dragon, ‘His tail is covered in scales of lustrous jade! And what would a dragon be without a majestic tail?’”

“Which clan did he belong to?” Called out a smooth, yet firm voice from the side of the room. It was a priest of dark robes, with fading black hair pulled back into a ponytail, matching his scruffy beard. He smiled warmly towards Daeja.  
“Ah,” Daeja said knowingly, “That was the question, Xiānshēng Li. The dragons decided that their solution was to each lay claim to the scales that matched their own. And as they pulled with all their might on different parts of the beautiful Rainbow-scaled Dragon, his scales began to fall off!”  
The children gasped.  
“The Rainbow-scaled dragon knew that the other dragons would tear him apart. ‘I BELONG TO NO ONE!’, His voice boomed, echoing across the valley. With a flash of light, all of the colorful scales rushed upwards towards the sky, shimmering within the darkness. The dragons looked up at the miraculous display in awe… But when they lowered their gazes, they saw that the Rainbow dragon was no longer there… And every year since then, when the rainbow scales reemerge in a beautiful wave across the moonlit sky, each clan remembers to mourn the dragon that belonged to no one but himself.”

...

Wu walked over to the priestess, who sat in the back of the room, looking through the open door of the courtyard where the children were now playing.  
He gave a slight bow before sitting beside her.

“You managed to get Shun to play with the other kids?” She asked, her voice flowing as if she were reciting poetry.  
“It’s easy when he’s this excited. He always wants to hear the dragon story, but I tell him I can’t recite it the way you do.”  
“I’m sorry you weren’t here when it started.”  
“He seemed to enjoy it either way.” Wu smiled, looking outside to see Shun running around with the other children beneath the brilliant aurora sky.  
“...So how is your trade going?” Daeja asked.  
“It’s going well,” Wu replied, beginning to recount to the priestess the recent developments within his business.  
She nodded occasionally, turning her head slightly to try to listen to another conversation at the edge of the room.

“...kind of message are we sending? That there is no need for order?”  
“The moral, as the children might be able to tell you, is that you cannot pressure someone to be something that they are not.”  
“Surely you understand the undertones, if they were even subtle enough to be referred to as such. If anyone outside of the clan was here, they would assume she was advocating for disbandment. She can’t just tell them whatever ludicrous story she’d like!”  
“Xin, it is a children’s tale. I hardly think anyone would think twice of it.”  
Xin idly ran his thumb across the scar on his jaw.  
“This is a once-a-year event, Li. Our people uphold the virtues of strength and perseverance. She wastes the opportunity to instill that message.”  
Li sighed, but said no more, seeming to think over the statement.

Daeja’s eyes narrowed in frustration as Wu continued to talk.  
“Is something the matter, priestess?”  
She returned her focus to the man beside her, giving him a slight smile.  
“No, nothing at all. You were saying?”

...

The children’s energy had nearly run out by the time another hour had passed. It was already well past most of their bedtimes.  
Daeja was sitting beside a campfire outside, singing softly along to the erhu player’s music as a small group of children and parents listened and chatted amongst themselves.  
As she sang, she heard a sudden faint, high pitched melody.  
She paused, confused, and the musician stopped playing.  
The melody continued. She could now hear the sweet song that emanated from one side of the mountain.  
One voice gradually became many, and in the darkness Daeja saw the movement of creatures in the sky.

“Harpies!” One of the monks yelled.  
There was an immediate panic as parents grabbed their children, who were transfixed by the approaching chorus of sickly sweet voices.  
“Cover your ears!” Daeja shouted at them. She turned back towards the harpies in fear as the glow of the fire reached them, revealing their large wings, razor-sharp talons and wicked smiles. There were at least ten of them- more than she had ever seen at once.

Daeja immediately turned and ran past the monks who were assembling outside in preparation for a fight, about to make her way to the training grounds on the other side of the temple to grab a weapon- but she stopped when she saw the corridor that led to her room, not far from the closest door.  
Less than a minute later, she reemerged wielding her training glaive. It was mostly wooden, simple in design and not meant for real combat, but she’d had enough practice with it that it would suffice.

Daeja ran forward towards the cluster of harpies, joining the monks as they fought. One of the harpies dove skillfully towards her, out-maneuvering her lunge with a twisting motion and slicing open the side of her face with sharp talons.  
The harpy bared her jagged teeth gleefully and Daeja angrily slashed upwards at her, leaving a deep gash in her red-feathered wing and eliciting a bird-like screech from the monster.  
Daeja took on a defensive stance as the harpy backed away to prepare to charge again. She took a deep breath, focusing on the movements of the creature and drowning out the chaotic sounds of combat and distorted singing that surrounded her.  
The harpy dove again, reaching towards Daeja with outstretched talons and avoiding the glaive that pointed towards her with another spin- but as soon as she was close enough, Daeja took a step backwards and struck her with the pole, knocking her down into the snow with a powerful swing.  
As the harpy lifted her wings to recover, Daeja slashed at her chest with a battlecry. Blood spattered across the white snow and the harpy went limp.

Daeja tried to catch her breath and pushed a few stray strands of white hair back behind her ear, blood smearing across her hand as she accidentally brushed the open wound on her cheek.  
A radiant glow the color of moonlight appeared from her palm as she brought it up to the deep red gash, and the wound knitted itself together.

She looked back towards the fight, pleased that the pain had vanished- the monks were able to handle themselves well, outmaneuvering the harpies with ease. But as she looked over the scene, her eyes caught the distant figure of a flying harpy slowly making its down the slope of the mountain, illuminated by the light of the aurora. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw a hint of movement from something below it. She quickly headed in that direction, leaving the scene of the fight.  
The sound of combat died down behind her as Daeja tried to carefully descend the snowy slopes of the mountain in pursuit of the harpy. The night was silent aside from the crunching of the snow beneath her feet, and the heavy wind that occasionally blew across her face and chilled her to the bone. While she had a strong constitution, the cold was deadly at this altitude and she wasn’t dressed for it at all.  
Just as she was about to turn back and let the harpy go, she saw the small figure following it through the snow.

“SHUN!” Daeja screamed, immediately breaking into a dash to reach the boy.  
As she closed the distance between them, she heard the gentle song of the harpy that lead him across the mountain top.  
The harpy stopped singing as Daeja approached, turning back and grinning impishly at her. She glided down towards the dazed boy and gripped him by the shoulders with her sharp talons, lifting him off the ground and carrying him towards the steep edge of the mountain.  
“No!” Daeja shouted desperately, running as fast as she could towards the harpy who held the boy above the snowy cliff.  
The harpy hovered above the chasm, looking towards the priestess with a satisfied smile. She was just high enough to avoid Daeja’s reach.  
Daeja’s mind was spinning. In a split second she tried to think of every option she had, her stomach twisting itself in knots as a part of her already prepared to mourn the boy.  
And the harpy let go.

...Daeja opened her eyes fearfully, staring straight ahead to see Shun, who was hanging by the collar at the tip of her extended glaive. The fabric of his clothing was slowly tearing, and with a whimper he wrapped his arms around the wooden pole.  
Daeja grunted as she tried to lift the weight of the child, but stopped when she heard a melody above her.

It was perhaps the most beautiful thing she had ever heard. She hadn’t known that there was such beautiful music outside of the shelter of the shrine. It was intoxicating. She wanted more. She wanted it to invade her mind- she wanted to hear nothing else ever again aside from this song. No, she wanted to be nothing but this song. It was her entire existence.  
Shun cried out in fear as Daeja’s grip began to lessen, the glaive lowering as she stared at the harpy in awe.  
Suddenly, she felt a light peeking through the haze that clouded her mind. At the center of her vision, she swore she could see something emerging.  
Was it the spirit of the mountain? Said to have lead her clan to this territory, and help guide lost travelers to safety with its mystical lantern? She was supposed to be a vessel for the spirit, but didn’t seem to have a solid connection to it.  
She thought she saw the spirit before, manifesting like a vibrant light amidst a snowstorm. Had it returned to save her?  
No, she thought, as the light in her vision flashed briefly and her senses returned to her.

The light is me.

Nearly screaming with effort, Daeja lifted her glaive and swung the boy back to safety just as the back of his collar ripped apart, sending him tumbling into the snow.  
The harpy screeched and dove in his direction, talons outstretched, and with a cry of fury Daeja threw her glaive straight at the creature, piercing her chest with tremendous force and sending her plummeting down the mountainside with a wild shriek.

After pausing a moment, heartbeat drumming in her ears, Daeja hurriedly turned back towards Shun, running over and clutching onto the frightened boy. She held him close as tears began to run down her cheeks, and she sobbed, holding him tighter as he began to cry as well.

...

“Shun!? Where’s Shun? Where is he!?”  
Daeja could hear Wu’s shouts even before she crested the peak where the temple rested.  
“Wu!” She called out as she emerged from the darkness with the child, heading towards the campfire. Shun shivered uncontrollably in her arms, and she bent down with him in front of the fire, trying to warm him with her hands.  
Wu ran over to them frantically, crouching down and searching Shun for any wounds.  
“He wasn’t hurt aside from some scratches on his shoulders, but he’s d-dangerously c-cold.” Daeja now realized how cold she was herself, unable to stop shivering now that the adrenaline had worn off. The tears on her cheeks made her feel like her face was frozen solid.  
She was surprised when Wu suddenly hugged her, but was happy to feel the warmth of his body heat.  
He pulled back suddenly, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, priestess, that was inappropriate of me… thank you. Thank you for saving my son. I owe you everything.”  
Daeja nodded silently, staring into the orange flames in front of her.  
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Xin glaring at her furiously, arms folded.

...

Daeja sat on a silk pillow in her room, covered in many layers of clothing and sipping hot tea. Across from her sat Li, who smiled as he set down his own steaming cup.  
Xin entered the room and closed the sliding door behind him, looking at the two others with an unreadable expression.  
“Are you warmed?”  
Daeja half-nodded, half-bowed towards the monk, placing her cup in front of her.  
He walked over to her and quickly raised his arm.

Slap!

Daeja recoiled with a shocked expression, and she lifted her fingers up to touch the red mark on her left cheek. It drew blood.  
“We do not need a leader who is reckless.”  
Li glared at Xin with a serious expression.  
“You are not meant to fight.” Xin continued. “You are not meant to be selfish. Yes, it is selfish to put yourself in danger. You are too important to unnecessarily engage with creatures as weak as harpies. And to go off on your own to fight one! Who knew you could be so foolish. Imagine if it had lead you off of a cliff!”  
Daeja stared at the ground, wanting furiously to defend her judgement but knowing better than to speak up.  
“Xin.” Li spoke calmly. “She saved a child.”  
“She is a child.”

The room was silent. Their three stares cut through the air like knives.  
“I’ll speak with her.” Li said at last.  
Without acknowledging him, Xin took one last look at Daeja and left.

Daeja wiped away the tears of pain with her sleeve once the door was closed.  
“Daeja…”  
Li leaned over and lifted the priestess’ chin to meet his gaze.  
“That was very brave of you. But you don’t understand just how important you are.”  
Daeja slapped his hand away and gave him a deadly stare, her divine blood boiling within her. He could almost feel the heat radiating from her star-like irises.  
He gently lifted his cup of tea and stood up with a sigh, bowed slightly towards her, and turned to leave.  
She was too angry to say anything.

...

Daeja couldn’t fall asleep.  
It was the one day a year where she could spend time with her people, and it developed into a catastrophe.  
She went over the memory of saving Shun again and again, terrified at how close he was to falling. How she should have called for help as soon as she saw the harpy.  
She knew she should be proud of herself for saving him, but it was difficult to stay positive with no one truly on her side. Even after she completed the coming of age trial not so long ago, nothing changed between her and the monks. Li pretended that she would receive more respect, but everyone still treated her like nothing more than a tool.

That was the most upsetting.  
Throughout her whole life, she endured the strictest training, thinking that once she came of age, she would be able to truly fall into her own role. That she would have power behind her image, instead of being a political vessel for the monks.  
Lately, they practically used her as a bargaining chip, an image of faith that could be used to manipulate the common people. But the image was a lie.  
She didn’t speak to the mountain spirit. At times, when she was sure of herself, she felt as if she was receiving guidance from it, but the connection was rare and never solid.  
Occasionally she would have dreams that seemed prophetic, but they were few and far between. She had no one to teach her how to hone her divine powers. She was lucky that her appearance wasn’t normal, or else she might have even second guessed the fact that she’s an Aasimar- she had no one to teach her about her kind, after all.  
Mostly, she would just say what the monks would tell her to. And when she was younger, she thought they were always right. But now… she realized that there was a force inside of her that needed to assert itself. The pride of the Fei clan and the radiant tenacity deep within her had no reason not to break free, no cue left to wait for. This time, the monks couldn’t stop her from allowing herself to be her own person.

Feeling newly rejuvenated, Daeja decided to leave her room and see the aurora one last time before it faded.  
When she closed the door behind her, she heard faint voices speaking down the hall, and saw the faint orange glow of a distant candle stretching across the walls.  
She cautiously approached and stood just outside of the front room, listening in to the conversation.

“You haven’t been strict enough. She’s more reckless than ever before.”  
“She’ll come to understand what decisions she should be making. What’s best for her and what is not.”  
Xin and Li were speaking about her again, as expected.  
“She has no need to make such decisions. We have made those decisions for her entire life. It is how we maintain order.”  
“Yes, but we no longer need to be so forceful. If we are fair and kind to her, she will comply. She won’t reluct to obedience. You only need to be patient.”  
Hearing this, Daeja could no longer hold her tongue.  
“Is obedience now a virtue?” She said in a low voice, slowly entering the room.  
The two men looked over in surprise, at a loss for words.

“Is that all you require of me?!” Daeja yelled, louder than she expected. She was startled by the harshness of her own voice. Her body was suddenly flooded with a burning sensation, and her fingers, shaking at her side, felt numb.  
Xin finally regained his composure, his face settling into a scowl.  
He spoke slowly, each word dripping from his mouth like venom.  
“There are sacrifices you have to make for our people. We know what is best.”  
“You know nothing about our people,” Daeja growled. “If it had been up to you, that boy would have been dead. And I’d wager you don’t even know his name.”  
The monk didn’t respond.  
“You don’t want what’s best for our people,” She continued, her voice steadily growing louder. “You want what’s best for your people! You do nothing but manipulate others, making me offer false guidance to our visitors so you and your rotten cohorts can reap the benefits! You prey on our clan’s spirituality, sinking your fingers into our people’s hearts from this peak like a foul puppet master. And you defile this temple!”  
Divine white light radiated from her clenched fists as she ran back to her room, leaving the two men behind in silence.  
She began quickly rummaging through her belongings and throwing things into a large haversack she had kept in a corner, only taking what she needed and leaving the rest in a messy pile.  
Once she was satisfied, she changed her clothes and tied up her hair before sliding open a large panel in the wall beside her bed, revealing a display of beautifully crafted armor and an intricately designed ceremonial glaive adorned with a flowing red ribbon.  
She appreciatively ran her finger across the front of the gleaming metal chest piece before taking the armor and weapon off of their stands.

 

Li was standing in the hall when Daeja finally opened her door, his eyes going wide at the sight of her.  
“Where are you going?” He asked as she pushed past him.  
“I’m going to start making my own decisions,” The priestess replied.  
He stood in shock for a moment before running forward to catch up with her.

“But you can’t leave!” He stammered as she slid the front door open. “What will we tell the people?”  
She paused for a moment, turning back towards him with a smile.  
“You can tell them whatever ludicrous story you’d like.”

...

The colors of the aurora were rapidly fading in the night sky, and the mountain above Shǎnyào was already wrapping itself in its usual veil of darkness.  
But even without the aurora’s illumination, one could spot the figure of a priestess descending the mountainside, for the light within her shined so brilliantly that it could be seen from miles away.


End file.
